


Clothes

by stagsableye



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #kinktober, Anal Sex, Clothes Kink, Established Relationship, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Ficlet, Gay Sex, Hannigram - Freeform, Kink Meme, Kinktober, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Suit Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stagsableye/pseuds/stagsableye
Summary: Kinktober 2017. Day 1: "clothes".Naked Will + clothed Hannibal. What more needs to be said?





	Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd.
> 
> Bon appétit!

Will throws his head back and exposes his throat. While he swallows another needy gulp of air, Hannibal watches with awe. That jutting Adam’s apple bobs  _ just  _ so, sinfully lewd. Tempting as the fruit of the forbidden tree.

 

So Hannibal leans down, latches onto the apple, and sucks. Will instantly loses his breath again. He moans long and low, vibrations passing through to Hannibal’s clever mouth, and his hips rut upwards in search of relief. He grinds to the firm warmth of Hannibal’s lower belly, but it isn’t nearly enough to satisfy.

 

“Hannibaaaaaal.” The sound is halfway to a needy whimper already. He can feel the tip of his swollen cock grazing to the fine fabric of Hannibal’s waistcoat, no doubt leaving a sticky smear of pre-cum and artisan lube. Somehow the thought of staining Hannibal’s pristine appearance in that way arouses Will more, and prompts another shuddering groan.

 

“Yes, Will?”

 

Hannibal is maddeningly calm, no matter the front of his trousers is obviously tight with the bulge of his arousal. Casual though he is, he’s looking more than a little mussed and wrinkled from rolling about on the bed with Will. His hair is a mess from Will’s greedy hands, and his scalp is residually stinging from the merciless tugs. Lips are swollen, corners of his mouth irritated and red by the continuous grazing of Will’s beard. And he’s still hungry for more. A ravenous beast, just waiting to unfurl.

 

Still, Hannibal’s navy plaid three-piece is mostly in place. Only a touch wayward and wrinkled. Socks still on, polished shoes hanging back over the bottom edge of the bed—consciously neat, even when otherwise  distracted .

 

Will, on the other hand, is splayed on his back and naked as the day he was born. Pale skin, head to toe with scars, sweating pores, thatches of coarse hair, and all. Intimately bared on display for his equally impassioned lover.

 

It isn’t until Will’s begun to whine with need, and Hannibal’s clothed bulge rocks into the supple warmth of Will’s bare ass, do they both realize the power of this simple dynamic.

 

Hazy blue eyes watch Hannibal attempt to loosen his burgundy paisley tie. An unspoken challenge as they undulate feverishly against one another. 

 

Will hand lashes up without thinking and closes tight around Hannibal’s wrist. “Don’t take it off,” he demands, voice hoarse. “Stay how you are.”

 

Hannibal looks down at Will with immense adoration, and nods dazedly as if he’s only just seen a beautiful angel for the very first time. Behind that veneer is heady desire, one that leaves him torn, dangling on an edge. He’s only waiting to hear the words.

The sudden, crushing grip on his lapels and Will’s words whispered into his mouth, send them tumbling into a blind fury of passion.

 

“ _ Fuck me _ .”

 

Hannibal peels their crotches apart and unzips his pants only enough to reach in and free his heavy, heated cock. With the slickness of lube in his hand, he primes himself in the tight grip of his palm. The movement leaves a slick across his white gold watch band, and wets the edge of his sleeve.

 

Will watches with silent desire, tongue darting out to lick his lips. His chest heaves, inhaling the scent of sex. How amazing it is to watch this normally stoic man unravel. The person-suit, but not the physical person itself. He thinks back to all the times when he’d been sitting across from Hannibal in an office of vaulted ceilings and lush décor. Will had spent so much of his life so far removed from such opulence, that Hannibal seemed beyond the possibility of touch. Completely outside Will’s realm of influence. Now, knowing that it’s  _ his  _ body that wrinkles Hannibal’s expensive suit, and  _ his  _ pre-cum has stained a thin line across it, Will finds it nothing short of  _ delicious _ .

 

His thoughts sputter to a stop when Hannibal slides his thick cock into Will’s quivering, needy body. Instantly they both emerge with feral need, teeth clinking in messy kisses, claws clinging onto one another.

 

And Hannibal fucks him impossibly hard. Hips snap, skin slaps, bodies writhe, backs arch, and pleasure scales higher and higher with their mutually breathless noises. The bed even creaks for mercy below them, the mattress shaking. The slip and sweat is intoxicating, and they are both drunk on this moment.

 

Will has to reach up and brace a palm to the headboard to keep from slamming up into it with the beastly force of Hannibal’s thrusts. Hannibal takes the opportunity to grab Will’s other wrist and pin both on the bed above him. The shift of weight bottoms out Hannibal’s cock flush and deep inside Will’s heat, and leans the full length of his clothed body down on him as well.

 

With that extra tease of soft fabric against his perky nipples, against his weeping cock nestled between his belly and Hannibal’s, Will climaxes forcefully before he can process what’s happening. Hannibal follows him to climax, and rides out every last wave of his release until he can feel the refreshed slick in tiny thrusts.

 

They whimper with exhaustion and fulfillment, collapse together in a twitching heap of flushed flesh. On the front of navy suit, the obvious stain of Will’s semen is a sinful sight arched high and then smudged into the cloth.

 

“This is pretty, isn’t it?” A rhetorical question, gasped out by Will. He slides a finger through the stain, creating more milky lines across Hannibal’s waistcoat.

 

“Beautiful,” whispers Hannibal, utterly unperturbed that his suit has been ruined. He would let Will do this a thousand times again, he thinks.

 

As if sampling a dessert he’s preparing for dinner, Hannibal open his mouth for Will’s fingertip coated with slick, and deftly licks it clean. Will’s softening cock begins to stir again at the sight.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, don't forget to leave kudos and comments. They inspire me and make me smile.
> 
> Please consider [buying me a coffee for a fic](https://ko-fi.com/murakistags)!


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